Dragon's Lair

by Denise Lynn

  Alexia grabbed at his shoulders. He looked down at her and she pointed frantically at the worktable.

  Braeden rolled his eyes. She would think about work before herself. “Gone.” Instantly, the manual, her notes, tools and computer disappeared.

  Before relaxing in his arms, Alexia looked at Danielle and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  Alexia’s lips had barely formed the words when Braeden whisked them to their private bedchamber at Mirabilus.

  They’d spent their wedding night here in this very chamber. Her marriage gift to him, an oil painting of a medieval warrior being knighted by a beautiful queen, still hung on the wall.

  He crossed the room and placed her on the high bed. “Stay there. I’m going to go call the doctor.”

  She grabbed his arm. “No. I’m fine.” Her voice was back. He’d released the spell holding her silent. “Please, just let me rest awhile.”

  Since she seemed to be all right, outside of her scratchy voice, he’d take her word for it. But he wasn’t going to leave her alone. “Move over.” He stretched out alongside her and pulled her into his arms.

  She froze for a moment, then relaxed against his chest. “How did you know I needed you?”

  “I couldn’t feel your presence.” He wasn’t about to lie to her. “When I was unable to touch your mind, I knew something was wrong.”

  She tipped her head back, brows hiked above her luminous blue eyes. “You what?”

  He pulled her head down against his shoulder. “You heard me. Yes, I broke my word.” And he felt no guilt for doing so. “I intruded on your thoughts repeatedly through the night. I kept my eye on you as best I could. And when I couldn’t find you, I came home.”

  Her gentle breath breezed lightly against his neck. “Thank you, Braeden.”

  It took a minute for him to realize that the reason she didn’t rail against his intrusion was that she was exhausted. He knew that once she had some rest, they would argue again.

  He tightened his embrace briefly, ordering, “Go to sleep.”

  Certain she’d ignore him, Braeden stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Go to sleep, Alexia. All will be well. Just sleep.” He caught a glimpse of her drowsy gaze just before her eyes closed.

  Regardless of what she thought, he didn’t hate her. He couldn’t deny his anger at her return. At first, just seeing her had been like opening a festering wound with a jagged knife, and he’d burned with rage.

  But seeing her on the floor, with handprints around her throat, made him realize that no matter how hard he tried, there was one thing he couldn’t deny. Right now, this impossible woman was still his mate.

  He’d known that from the moment they’d met. How had he let himself forget?

  He didn’t trust her to confide in him. He didn’t trust her to always tell him the truth. Yet, as illogical as it seemed to his brain, he would do everything within his power to keep her safe, whether she liked his methods or not.

  She could rant all she wanted after she woke up, he didn’t care. They had a manual to translate, an enemy to defeat and a danger to vanquish. Everything else, including the decision about their marriage, could wait.

  Right now, he wanted a night of peace. Tomorrow would be soon enough to resume snarling at each other. Tomorrow they could renew their mutual distrust.

  But tonight…tonight he would do nothing more than hold her, stand guard and keep her safe.

  Braeden shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed. He felt Alexia shiver, but he didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to let her out of his arms. It’d been a long time since he’d held a woman so close. He just wanted to relax quietly and enjoy the silence.

  Having powers was perfect for just such a moment. He reached toward a rack in the corner of the room and willed a quilt to his hand. After pulling it around her shoulders and tucking it in, he closed his eyes.

  Alexia blinked awake. The arm around her tightened briefly and she froze for a second before remembering where she was, then relaxed against Braeden’s side.

  “How do you feel?” His deep voice broke the dark silence of the room, surrounding her in warmth.

  She swallowed, testing her throat first. “Fine.”

  He settled his head more deeply into the pillow. “Good. Go back to sleep.”

  The sudden urge to run a hand across his chest surprised her. She didn’t want to want him, didn’t want to let herself need him. But she couldn’t deny the safety his arms provided. “I’m not tired.”

  Braeden rolled to his side, drawing her closer into his embrace. At the same time soft light bathed the bed. “Then tell me what happened.”

  Her pulse quickened. “I don’t want to argue.”

  “Neither do I. At least not tonight.” His lips brushed her cheek. “But I need to know what happened.”

  Alexia leaned away. “Are you planning on using seduction to get answers again?”

  “I hadn’t considered it. But there’d be no interruptions this time…”

  She quickly changed the subject, asking, “How is the little girl? Did you find her?”

  “Yes. And other than being frightened out of her wits at being kidnapped by a monster, she’s unharmed.”

  “Kidnapped?” She knew the answer, but had to ask. “By whom?”

  “Nathan.” A shudder rippled the length of his body before he added, “I’m amazed we found her alive.”

  A child. Nathan took his anger out on a child. Alexia swallowed the bile clogging her throat. “Oh, dear God. I am so sorry. I never should have—”

  “No.” Braeden quickly threaded his fingers through her hair and jerked her head back. He stared hard into her eyes, forcing her to look at him. His eyes glittered like gemstones in the flickering light. “Listen to me. This wasn’t your fault. While you slept, I made certain that she won’t remember a thing—not the kidnapping or the kidnapper.”

  “But my paper…I shouldn’t—”

  “Stop it.” He tugged on her hair, making her wince, before he relaxed his hold, sliding his hand to warm the back of her neck. “Alexia, your paper didn’t bring Nathan here. And it had nothing to do with his quest for the manual. It’s probably safe to assume that even your professor’s accident was caused by Nathan.”

  “Why?”

  Braeden ran his thumb along the rim of her ear. “He wouldn’t want anyone else, especially another mortal, homing in on what he considered his property.”

  “Still, had I had the guts to stand up to the professor, instead of caving like I did, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Even if you didn’t have the backbone to refuse, you could have come to me. Still, we can’t know for certain if it would have made a difference.”

  “We’ll never know the outcome if things had been different.” She looked away, trying to hide her guilt. “But they aren’t different, and you made it pretty clear that I’m to blame for this.”

  Braeden’s palm was light against her cheek as he turned her to face him. “I was wrong to blame you. Do you hear me? I was wrong.”

  Shocked to hear Braeden admit he’d done something wrong, she studied him. He didn’t appear to be anything but serious.

  When she failed to respond, he continued, “I know damn well that there’s no way you could ever be involved with a man who would think to harm a child.”

  Unshed tears blurred her sight. She didn’t know if they were from overwhelming relief at his admission, or lingering guilt over the paper.

  He caressed her cheek. “No ‘I told you so’? Not even as much as a raised eyebrow? A self-satisfied smirk? Nothing?”

  She didn’t know what to say. She could count the number of times Braeden had apologized for anything on one hand. Each one took her by surprise. This one, however, was more shocking than surprising.

  And not altogether pleasant. Why this sudden change of heart?

  Too many years of blame, guilt and anger made her wary. Was he up to something?

  Alexia studi
ed his face. He didn’t waver, didn’t flinch. She detected no trace of subterfuge—but this was Braeden Drake. Ruler and High Druid of Mirabilus, and they were on his turf.

  She could search his gaze until the end of time and still be uncertain. She would see only what he wanted her to see.

  But lying wasn’t one of his tactics. He’d sooner say nothing than lie.

  “Alexia?”

  Uncertain and confused, she sighed in resignation before asking, “What changed your mind?”

  “The little girl Cindy.” Braeden’s light kisses felt like butterflies across her cheek. “I realized that you could never be involved with someone as purely evil as Nathan.”

  “You do realize that I should be mad at you?” Alexia trailed her fingertips over the rough stubble covering the hard line of his jaw.

  “I know.” He stroked her arm, bringing her hand to his lips. “But in return I’d have to get angry because you’ve neatly avoided telling me what happened at the Lair.”

  “Nothing much.” Now who was lying?

  He touched her neck. “Try again.”

  “Since I wouldn’t tell him what was in the manual, Nathan wanted to give me a warning so that next time, I’d basically do as he ordered.”

  “There won’t be a next time.”

  “He seemed to think there would be.”

  “He’s wrong.” Not a trace of indecision colored Braeden’s tone. “You’re staying here. He can’t touch you inside these walls.”

  “No.” Alexia shook her head. “I can’t stay here.”

  “Not that I’m giving you a choice, but why is that?”

  “It’s too dangerous for me here.”

  Braeden pushed her onto her back and leaned up on one arm to look down at her. “Dangerous? What are you talking about? You’re safer here than…” His words trailed off as he tipped his head and leaned closer.

  She could nearly see the thoughts whirling behind his eyes. It wouldn’t take him long to figure out what she meant. Alexia wondered if she’d ever learn to keep her mouth shut. She knew Braeden was so attuned to her that it took only a look or a few words for him to know what she was thinking or feeling.

  A seductive half smile curved his mouth. “Does this have anything to do with the challenge you issued? The one about not sharing my bed?”

  Not wanting to see what she knew would be a look of pure male triumph glimmering in his eyes, Alexia looked away. “It wasn’t meant as a challenge.” It was meant to keep her heart safe. And now that she’d unintentionally reminded him, her heart might already be forfeited.

  Braeden jerked the covers away, then turned her face toward his. Alexia halfheartedly pushed at his chest. “Braeden, don’t.”

  He laughed and grasped her wrists, and holding them loosely in one hand, he leaned over her. With his lips brushing against hers, he whispered, “Tell me to go away. Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave, Alexia.”

  Of course she wanted him. She hungered for his touch in a way she’d never thought possible. She ached to accept the pleasure he offered, to match him thrust for thrust and to lose herself in the magic of his darkening gaze. That would be all too easy.

  But tomorrow…next week…next month, when she once again slept alone, she would remember this night and the memory of what she lost would tear her apart.

  When she remained silent, he asked, “Is it that hard to decide?”

  She pulled her hands free, placing them on his shoulders. “Yes. Yes, Braeden, it is.”

  He buried his face in the crook of her neck. His breath against her skin brought a sigh to her lips. “Alexia, I can smell your heat.”

  When his mouth closed over the flesh between her neck and shoulder, she shivered. Her gasp echoed in the room. “And I can feel your need.”

  Braeden pulled her beneath him and held her face between his hands. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. She knew what he was waiting for, and when she peered up at him, he finally asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t.” She swallowed, fighting to tame the tremor in her voice. “I just can’t.”

  His lips covered hers, parting them, his tongue seeking, stroking, against hers. He deepened their kiss, demanding her response, until she moaned against his mouth and curled her arms around his back.

  He pulled his lips away. “You’re on fire.”

  “Yes.”

  Braeden scraped his teeth lightly across her lower lip, sending her need spiraling nearly out of control. “You want me. You need me.”

  “Desperately.” She couldn’t lie. The magical side of him, the side seething with power, knew what she felt.

  Resting his forehead against hers, he asked, “Then why not?”

  Alexia shook her head. “I…” Unable to give voice to her fears, she clamped her lips closed.

  He gathered her into his embrace and lowered his lips to her ear. She froze, knowing exactly what he was about to do. “Braeden, it…isn’t…You don’t have to…”

  Ignoring her, his hot breath against her neck, across her ear, he fanned the desire to a raging, fevered pitch.

  Before she could gather her wits, he ensorcelled her with pure, white-hot lust. It raced through her before she could push him away. And it was so much hotter than she remembered, faster than she expected, setting her limbs trembling, her heart pounding as the unbridled passion coursed a burning trail that throbbed between her legs.

  Alexia closed her eyes and gasped raggedly. While her mind rebelled against his unfair seduction, her body begged for more. She writhed beneath him as he breathed his spell of desire into her, silently beckoning her to respond to the magic he wove.

  “You’re so hot.” He softly coaxed, “Relax, Alexia.”

  When a frustrated moan escaped her throat, he hoarsely whispered, “Let it happen.”

  The bed seemed to fall away beneath her as a shuddering orgasm ripped through her. Braeden caught her cry of release with his lips. He ravaged her mouth, plundering, stroking his tongue against hers until the last tremor ran the length of her spine.

  Once she caught her breath, Braeden rose and stared down at her. She recognized the question in his eyes, but was unwilling to give him the answers he sought.

  He reached out and traced a fingertip over her lips. “I’ll be next door.” Without another word, he headed for the door connecting their bedroom to another one.

  Alexia’s heart took a while longer to settle into a more steady rhythm. While her sexual frustration was temporarily sated, more or less, the knowledge that he couldn’t have spelled her that way if they didn’t still have a bond tying them together pounded hard through her mind.

  And now he was aware of that bond, too.

  Chapter 13

  As much as she didn’t want to come here, one nice thing about Mirabilus was that Alexia didn’t sense anything other than what she saw. In the two days she’d been here, nothing had made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Not a single wispy form caught the edge of her vision.

  The only thing that bothered her was Braeden and his odd aloofness. He still slept in the room next door. She’d rather deal with his anger than his sudden avoidance of her.

  When he’d offered to join her on a walk today, she’d accepted immediately. She’d failed miserably at remaining impersonal. And now she didn’t know what she wanted from him. It really was maddening to be so undecided.

  Alexia sat on a stone bench, stretched out her legs and lifted her face to the bright autumn sun. Even though the breeze coming off the ocean was cool, the sun kept her warm. After being cooped up inside the castle, coming outside was a welcome respite.

  She rose and paced the small garden where he’d left her waiting while he took a call from Cameron. She saw that only one path led out of the garden. Braeden was smart enough to realize that she’d take that route. He’d find her when he came out.

  Alexia strolled along the well-trimmed walkway into the forest. Not more than five minutes later, she found
herself in a small, secluded clearing ringed by oak trees.

  A couple of wooden benches had been placed near the center as if surrounding something. Curious, she walked closer.

  A flat marble stone, like a headstone to a grave, was set into the ground. The familiar words etched on the face of the stone stole her breath and pierced her heart as surely as any sword.

  Here lies the dream that never was. Rest in peace, Matthew Drake.

  At the same instant as a moan of agony for the son she’d never held left her lips, Braeden yelled, “Alexia, don’t.”

  The sound of crunching leaves broke through her pain. Then his arms were around her, forcing her away from the memorial, pulling her tightly against his chest, holding her head against his shoulder.

  “I was going to bring you here myself,” he whispered against her hair.

  She shoved against him, trying to break free of his hold. “Let me go.”

  “No.” He tightened his embrace. “Listen to me. I was going to tell you. I was going to bring you here. This is where we were going to come for our walk. I wanted to explain.”

  “How could you do this?” She despised the break in her voice. She was beyond this. She’d gotten past this pain, had pushed it down into the deepest recesses of her soul. But now, now it tore free with a vengeance that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “How could I not?” He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “We came here for our wedding night. We had plans to move here, to raise our children here, to grow old together here, remember?”

  She nodded against his shoulder, but before she could say anything, he continued, “How could I not bring the remnants of our dreams here?”

  “Why? You didn’t care before, so why bring the stone I commissioned here to remind you of something that held little meaning?”

  “Little meaning?” The pain in his voice rasped against her ears. “You think I didn’t care? You think my anger, my rage, wasn’t because of losing Matthew?” His chest heaved against hers. “I was given no chance to grieve. I had a wife to worry myself sick about.”